


Always with you, never with you

by Nelja-in-English (Nelja)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Bruises, Burns, Canon-Typical Violence, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), F/F, Hate Sex, Love/Hate, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, i guess it's alternate universe since they meet irl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24587863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelja/pseuds/Nelja-in-English
Summary: Agnes thinks Gertrude owes her.
Relationships: Agnes Montague/Gertrude Robinson
Comments: 19
Kudos: 33
Collections: The First Annual Femslash Kink Exchange 2020





	Always with you, never with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tender_anaphylaxis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_anaphylaxis/gifts).



Gertrude's clothes are dirty, torn and half-burnt. She feels alive. And since she was lucky, everyone can feel alive today - except for the few people and creatures who had gathered here, of course. They're burning so fast with their bodies filled with insects and rot.

Gertrude doesn't think they're all dead. She has probably made enemies today. She has also, if her deductions were right, prevented the end of the world. She sneers. No, that's what she had thought the last time, thinking too much of herself. She has delayed the end of the world, and that will have to be good enough.

As she climbs the steep side of the hollow where the huge mold was hiding, she notices a brightness; not a light exactly, a reflection of the sun in too-bright orange hair. And she knows that after getting rid of the ritual to end the world, she has to tie the loose ends of her plan B. Her plan B who happens to be the monster she saved the world from, for the previous ritual.

Who is also a strikingly beautiful woman Gertrude is meeting for the first time.

"Why have you asked me to come? You're late." And then, Agnes looks at Gertrude with more attention, and asks "Did something happen to you?" cautiously, as if she wasn't sure how common it is for people to walk around with burnt clothes.

Gertrude thinks and pretends to smile. She dislikes Agnes and she doesn't. She pities her a bit and fears her more. She resents her and sometimes feels guilty. It's been seven years now since she weaved their lives together with spider silk, without really knowing what she was doing, just to cripple this woman spiritually, and stop her turning the Earth into a hell of fire and pain.

"Do you have an idea of how to undo what you've done?" Agnes asks, anxious. "Tell me! I want to know!"

It's too much and the irony makes Gertrude burst out laughing, about the Archivist emerging from a fire she lighted herself, and the avatar of the Desolation asking her questions. Really, the spiders intermingled them up all over, broke what they were into pieces, made them reconstruct themselves with discarded pieces of each other.

"Don't mock me!" Agnes says. The fury starts to burn in her eyes, and Gertrude remembers she must be cautious. Even if she has fulfilled her most urgent task, it means that she can afford to die now, not that she wants to.

"I don't," Gertrude answers. "Did you expect me to? How did you know it was me?" The letter she'd sent her had no signature. She had just assumed that an Avatar couldn't resist a challenge - and yes, probably that Agnes would be curious. It wouldn't even have changed Gertrude's plans if Agnes had come with all her cult, but she's glad she didn't.

"Who else could it have been?" Agnes answers with a smile. It's not exactly a sad smile, but it's resigned. She knows she has no friends. No allies even, only worshippers. None of them would send an anonymous letter, they want her attention so much. But they also try, very respectfully, to keep her under control.

Gertrude feels something uncomfortably close to guilt.

"I called on you to use you," she says. "I was... stopping a Corruption ritual today. I thought that even if I didn't manage to stop it, you would burn the place to the ground, as I don't think you see it as a friendly entity, and you've got the right powers against them." She takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"Oh." Agnes answers. She seems disappointed. "You owe me compensation for this."

She steps forward; she's taller than Gertrude is, and her frail appearance is a lie. She grabs Gertrude's arms. She no longer has any clothes there, already torn, and the heat is painful, but bearable.

Gertrude let the Cult of the Lightless Flame believe that if she died, Agnes died. It was her best assurance. But as she looks into Agnes' sad eyes, she realizes maybe it wouldn't stop her.

And then Agnes kisses her. It's solemn and chaste, lips on chapped lips. Gertrude - well, she has already been rude enough, so she can only kiss back. She has no recent experience of being kissed by stunning women, but she has a good enough memory, and she knows how to tease and lick and bite just a little bit. It doesn't even hurt, after the first surprise, not more than drinking very hot coffee - she wishes she could surrender and take more genuine pleasure in it.

Agnes breaks the kiss, but doesn't let her arms go. "What happened?" she asks. Her hair is both looking like flame and perfectly smooth, it's very pretty and infuriating.

"Did you expect to hurt me?" Gertrude asks, a bit disappointed. "There are occult ways to protect oneself against fire." 

"Why?" Agnes asks.

"Have I other options?" Gertrude asks. "You must feel it. Don't you understand that your fire is under my skin, inside my flesh and to the bones, all the time? Without some deflecting ritual, I'd barely last..."

Agnes is kissing her again.

It's nothing like the first time. Not tender, never, but passionate. Agnes is no longer holding her arms, she's embracing her fully, kissing her face all over before biting her lips, and Gertrude - she is not made of stone, and she feels arousal flow between her legs. She strokes Agnes' back, slowly, getting used to the heat, here too. She loves very much to feel her tremble. Now Gertrude is sucking hickeys into Agnes' hot neck, hoping it's what Agnes wanted as compensation, hoping she will want more. She doesn't want to stop. 

At one point, Agnes grabs her shoulder, and Gertrude winces. She managed to avoid any contact with any of the Corruption cultists, fortunately, but at one point she had to fall quite hard after throwing the grenade.

"But I can hurt you like this?" Agnes asks, sounding offended, but also very human. Gertrude has never wanted her more, and certainly she won't ask her to stop, as Agnes' long, pretty, sadistic fingers look for other hidden bruises and scrapes. Agnes' skirt is very long, so instead of lifting it, Gertrude slides her fingers under her waistband, starts to stroke her mound.

Agnes gasps; Gertrude pushes her advantage, reaches under her pants and slightly pinches her clit. As Agnes' legs start to wobble, Gertrude manages to push her, slowly falling on top of her, into the wild, short, green grass. Agnes doesn't resist, but she painfully scratches Gertrude' shoulders as revenge.

It gets fast after this, once she's on top of Agnes. Gertrude removes her hand, which makes Agnes scratch her harder, a delightful punishment. She opens the buttons of Agnes’ blouse, unveiling the small breasts under the bra, cupping them and briefly teasing the nipples. She finally lifts her long shirt, only the front, so the bottom still protects her legs from the irritant grasses - and, maybe, protects the grasses from catching fire. And then Gertrude smiles, and slowly, very slowly, removes Agnes' pants. Her pubic hair is red too, far thinner than her long tresses. Gertrude can almost see her clit underneath, and she feels - the lord have mercy, she wants her so badly. She's been stupid, she shouldn't have let her instincts lead her into such a dangerous situation, but it feels a bit late to think of that now.

She kneels in front of Agnes - good thing she still wears her solid trousers mostly in one piece. She can bear one or two new scratches - she's basically asking for them, answering to Agnes' affections - but letting a bug bite her out of petty revenge is out of the question.

She breathes in the smell of Agnes' cunt, and strokes only the hair, not the skin under, to tease her, to make her shiver. But it's too little, even for her. She leans down and tastes the delightful, salty smell, as the liquid drips fast against her tongue. There's a lingering scent of matches, but it's not a bad one. Agnes moans, and grasps her hair, pulls hard, undoes Gertrude's bun.

"Not like this!" she demands. "I want to keep touching you!"

Gertrude can understand the feeling, in fact she deeply agrees. Still, it takes a frustratingly long time (though it can't have been that long in reality) before she can turn, her tongue still right above Agnes' cunt, but her body pointed in the other direction. This way Agnes can wrap her arms against her waist, slide her hands under her blouse.

With the new angle, it's far easier to just lick Agnes' clit; it's also even better at making her react, Gertrude notices with satisfaction. With one finger, she teases at her entrance...

But at the same time, Agnes opens her trousers and lowers them fast, with her pants, in one swift move. Gertrude almost feels the cold air against her ass - almost, because one of Agnes' burning hands strokes it, and oh, the other explores her folds...

Gertrude is almost sure that it's not meant to be a competition; but she still feels an agreeable thrill as she slowly enters Agnes with a finger and sucks harder on her clit, making her lose concentration for a time. Not for too long, though, and she's pleased when Agnes touches her again. She tries to move her; Gertrude gladly adjusts her hips to let Agnes' hot tongue touch her, lick her. She's still scratching at Gertrude's ass, at her back, leaving hot red lines. Gertrude likes it; she's not sure Agnes would stop if she didn't.

The intensity of her pleasure only leaves room for fleeting thoughts. Maybe it's better, maybe she doesn't want to dwell on them. The truth is, she loves the fire. As much as she despises every Lightless Flame cultist she met and their loathsome god, she loves the explosions and the destruction and the purification. She should be horrified at how it's not the original her, it was not what she wanted, but she can't hate something that she can use as a weapon against her enemies, and she... she can't hate Agnes, and she lets the feeling of loving her run through her. It's not really her. She just doesn't want to think about it right now, as she brings her to orgasm with her fingers and tongue, in the midst of her own overwhelming delights.

Gertrude would like to just stay here, her head on Agnes' thighs, but after the pleasure ebbs, she realizes that the pain is more intense than she thought. So she carefully rolls on her side and looks at her own thighs. They're covered with an unpleasant burn mark, worse than the bruises.

"I finally marked you," Agnes says with a smile. She's still pretty, and doesn't make any attempt to cover herself. "I think you let me do it." Gertrude's annoyance, even anger, is directed at both Agnes and herself, because it's probably true.

"Can I kiss it?" Agnes asks. "I promise it won't make it worse." But already Gertrude is putting on her trousers again. She let herself be what she shouldn't be, and she won't spend too much time regretting it, but she will certainly stop now.

"I promise never to use you this way again," she offers as a final present, before taking her discarded bag and walking away. 

Agnes finally lowers her dress and sits. Leaning on one arm, she watches Gertrude leaving. She looks disappointed. Gertrude kind of wants to know why, know how she feels, but she absolutely doesn't want to ask.


End file.
